She was one of the middle children, beautiful and shorter than most, reddish brown hair, beautiful face.
While waiting to be married she was an avid reader, "Barbara Cartland," a favorite author then, sometimes gave naive little girls the idea that a big tough man could be romantic, many girls lost themselves in these stories.
When that man was violent and abusive it was a shock.
Each young girl was taught that she must be pure above all, no one even mom told us that a man may beat us up. Let alone that some younger men would actually rape them, This happening more than once.

When she finally reached her breaking point, She was left with eleven children practically on the side walk.
Her husband appointed by the priesthood was told to drop her and children off in a small town near by.
Always the husbands of errant wives were told, if you do as told you will be blessed with more wives, if not you are done.
Gradually as the priesthood shrunk, with less men on the council the rules changed, less young men were even given wives.
Older men seemed to use daughters as currency, exchanging theirs for another.
Young men waited and did not ever qualify for wives.
Young women were given to older men, many while still children.

His mother actually came to her home telling her to get out of bed and her duty, at a time when she was ill.
This little sister was horribly mistreated by our town, they verbally abused her at every turn.
Her children were also treated badly.
She became reluctant to answer her door even to sisters.
Finally she realized she must leave, her youngest still a baby.
When her children visited their father he did everything possible to make them hate her.

She was talented in many ways, great with animals and learning the secrets of herbal medicine.
Also as with most of my sisters she was the best of cooks, she could make cakes as well; This was something I could never cook, my cake always looked like the leaning tower.

Eventually she found an Indian man whom has become her soul mate.
Together they exhaled in growing beautiful flowers, rescuing animals and the best cooking.
She works in hospitals and strives to feed or give her health remedies to anyone that comes to her door.
She collects everything history, and has much information on past family.

She has never known the luxury of even enough money to meet bills, and never asked for handouts.

My favorite tag for her is her story telling; she could tell stories that fascinated my children and has continued through the years, telling her stories so well that it was hard to tell what is reality and what not, many times so realistic that we question if she knows. Her life was never easy, she was enchanting and easy for men to desire. She met an older Indian man originating from Hawaii spending 17 years with him. Linnan died January 2019, from pancreatic cancer I had not seen her for years we talked but finally this last summer she stayed a few nights, she came up because her significant other was having feet problems. She lost one daughter in a car accident and was suffering with another whom was jailed leaving 2 small children depending on others to care for them. The agraving thing about life is the search for truth each one has a different story. Nan told beautiful stories with herself being many different people she was memorizing and I personally want to believe she often was influenced by past lives, truly a storyteller. For the years 20 or more working two jobs often saying she would work until she died. She helped anyone and lived in a trailer home that was so old it was sinking, she was a collector and it looked like an antique shop, she kept history and did homeopathy. Her third time to visit me was November 2018 she had a stomach problem a,d finally let our sister take her in to the doctor she did washing for a hospital for many years but never had health insurance. From the last time she was with me until she died She looked as though her body was liquidating and she became a skeleton, the difference in 3 weeks was horrible this disease was fast and vicious, her one vice as I see it was she smoked and I'm sure it was the biggest factor. I miss her laughter and beautiful face and will be forever appreciation the care our little sister helping to preserve her dignity. After she died many questions come up, life is often nothing like we think is going on. Her visits to me indicated she did not want to be around her man, I did not get the message, after she died there were conflicting stories. Our sister with her companion stayed with her until she died, believing that her man had finished her life, she was in agony and he was constantly by her side even in bed during her death, she wanted me to hold her and lye by her but he would not move or let us alone, when she lost control of body functions he loudly criticized and drew attention to her. I have no idea of where truth and real facts lie but to see her pain was something that I feel I may not be able to refuse helping it end,